


Possession is NOT a pro gamer move

by Pastel_Rabbit



Series: Not what it seemed in Xen [1]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Also Tommy isn't in this much only because idk his character well enough, An AU of Sorts, And Coomer is Coomer, And I didn't know what to do with him in the story, Benrey can't be serious to save his live Everything Must Have A Game Reference, Benrey is stressed and also gay, Bubby wants to fight everything ever, But also Benrey kinda Has to be serious to save his life so oh no, Chuck E Cheese is in the real world, Coomer is the Dad Friend and it shows, Gordon is stressed, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, The Skeleton is possessing Benrey and he just wants to smooch, also!, i still love him though, ok so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Rabbit/pseuds/Pastel_Rabbit
Summary: “hey, where’d your- … why are we here?” He’d managed after a few seconds of standing in silence.“To sleep?” Gordon had replied, it was clear to anyone who’d been watching that Benrey hadn’t been asking that.He’d looked down. Coomer remembers watching the colour drain from the guard’s face when he finally saw the stump, and an almost worried tone had crept into his voice, replacing apathy for the first time.“...what happened to your arm?”
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Series: Not what it seemed in Xen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756465
Comments: 82
Kudos: 853
Collections: Key Enjoyed





	1. Holy shit a skeleton

**Author's Note:**

> Behold! The short fic I was writing in between a longer fic to give myself a break, that ended up being even longer and taking priority! Some parts I feel like I ramble on a little for, but that's just my writing style and I'm not a professional what do you want from me

Far away from prying eyes, far below the radar of any mainstream news articles and TV shows. In the ever-expanding deserts of New Mexico, USA, the Black Mesa Research Facility lays dormant, and mostly undetected.

Black Mesa is rumoured to be many things. It  _ is _ many things. A facility that somehow obeys every OSHA guideline in the book, a building full of horrifying aliens, scientist clones, and test tube prototypes.

And currently, Gordon Freeman and the Neo-Science Team’s personal hell.

Well, the sentiment is debatable for Benrey.

The five-strong band of scientists and security guard had been through a lot the past few days- Or had it been weeks? None of them could ever be sure, seeing as how Coomer and Bubby never quite agree on how long things had already taken. And at first, Gordon thought they could just be messing with him, but after slowly realising that neither the facility’s interior nor his companions were what they had first seemed, he stopped trying to make sense of it.

Either way, they had all been through a  _ lot _ .

Everyone is on edge in their current resting spot, a hole in the roof that Bubby had scoped out a few hours back, full of nothing but crates and red lights and the safest feeling any one of them had felt since starting this insane journey. Tommy has taken to curling himself up in the corner, listing off every soda brand he knows of to an only mildly disinterested Bubby, idly spinning the cylinder of his revolver with a thumb. Gordon is getting some well-deserved shuteye, back propped up against one of the intact crates, the stub of his right arm resting in his lap. Coomer somehow decided his moment of free-time should be spent staring into the wall, and Benrey.

Benrey is outside, nowhere to be seen by the others. Staring up into the night sky like he had been ever since everyone tried getting some needed rest.

He didn’t feel like shutting his eyes with that  _ thing  _ in there. Out here, he has space to breathe, to lay down on his back and stare up into space without anyone tripping over his arms or telling him to sleep in a more normal position.

He has space to exist.

Or he does, until Coomer noisily scrambles up and out of the hole with a chirpy “Hello G- Benrey!” and a wave.

Benrey looks over, uninterested, but makes no protest when the old man happily takes a seat next to him, leaning back on one of the many vent systems suspended around them. Only when a good moment or so has passed does he greet the other with a simple, short,

“ **hey man.** ”

“You wouldn’t be adverse to some company, I hope?”

“ **no, s’fine.** ” Benrey gives a nod, eyes closing as he listens to Coomer momentarily shuffling against the roof surface, before it’s quiet once again.

They spend the next minutes in calm, comfortable silence. Benrey keeps himself occupied by trying to write out names of various video game titles in the stars (still keeping his eyes shut, somehow), while Coomer recites the wikipedia article for chairs over and over again in his head.

There’s a relaxing, understanding feeling in the air that surrounds them. Guard and Scientist both keep quiet, allowing the other their moment of peace.

Until, of course, Benrey allows his thoughts to escape, and mutters out in a flat, matter-of-fact tone that doesn’t match what he’s actually saying. “ **i’m, like. scared?** ”

Coomer hums for a moment, then gives Benrey a solemn nod.

“I assumed you were, my friend. You seemed quite eager to leave our makeshift camp back there!”

He clasps both hands on his knees, and the sound coaxes a barely noticeable flinch from Benrey as he cracks open one eye, looking over to see the doctor approach. Kneeling behind his head, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.

Benrey isn’t sure if it had been an invitation for comfort from the other, or simply coincidence, but when he’s finished speaking, the guard shuffles backwards and slips his head to lean up on Coomer’s bent legs. Coomer doesn’t seem to mind himself being used as a pillow, so Benrey takes the go-ahead to get comfy, flopping both arms over his bulletproof vest to focus on his heartbeat.

He feels a pat-pat on the front of his helmet, and half-smiles appreciatively up at the other. As obnoxious as Benrey can get, physical comfort and reassurance is one of the things he thrives off.

Coomer.. Somehow knows this. Benrey won’t ask how, because he feels it’ll surface one of the few nights he’s been too tired to hide coaxing a comforting head pat out of a half-conscious Dr. Freeman.

It’s not  _ his _ fault the guy’s so warm. Damn HEV suit.

‘ **hev suit’** , Benrey repeats the word phonetically in his mind, to get his thoughts off how much he’d love to be held by  _ Gordon  _ right now.

Keeping his voice low and easy, Coomer continues. “I.. Neglected to tell Dr. Freeman, of course. I doubt he’d have made anything easier on you, the poor man  _ is _ quite stressed after you sold him out to the US military.” His voice is nonchalant, any previous grudges against the otherworldly ‘man’’s actions having either been forgotten, or forgiven. But even so, Benrey can’t help scrunching his face in confusion.

Both eyes fall open, and he looks blankly up at Coomer with a flat, barely emoting “ **wha?** ”

“Oh, your little… Coup, with Bubby, way back when. I d-”

Benrey lifts two fingers lazily on his right hand, signalling for Coomer to stop. And he does, pausing his train of thought as easily as if someone had climbed into his head and turned off his brain for the moment. His brain, however, is still very much whirring, and the scientist looks down for an explanation to his silencing.

And the guard, with the explanation, seems to still be working through his thoughts when he replies. “ **i didn’t- huh? i didn’t sell… gordon to anyone, i don’t know what you’re talking about.** ” His tone grows a dismissive bite towards the end, before he settles, and assumes this is where the conversation ends.

It isn’t.

“..Benrey, I would appreciate it if you told me the truth. I  _ am _ doing my best to forgive you for that, you know,”

“ **i’m being honest- all the time, always full honesty, don’t know.** ”

Coomer stops. He’s aware of Benrey’s constant need to lie about blatantly obvious things, and god knows he’s persistent, but this seems... Too  _ genuine  _ of an emotion to be yet another lie.

Instead of pressing the matter on, he brings the subject back. “What.. Exactly is it that’s scaring you, Benrey?”

He feels the guard tilt his head, and looking down reveals Benrey is looking over at the hole their companions are safely huddled beneath. In that one moment, the boxer almost sees a fearful expression. 

But Benrey seemingly shrugs it off, bringing his gaze back up to the skybox above them. “ **skeleton,** ” he replies, as if that one sentence has all the information Coomer could ever need.

“Skeleton?”

“ **mhm. getting me to do stuff, n’shit.** ”

Coomer’s eyes drift thoughtfully to the hole, digging through metaphorical and literal files of his memory to pick out the one, vivid scene that had played out just minutes ago. Back when he was laying, comfortable on the concrete floor, vision swimming before sleep swallowed him. He remembers looking over, seeing their fleshless companion flop to the ground, and seeing an immediate change in Benrey’s demeanor that almost woke him up.

He’d looked around the hole- At everyone sleeping peacefully, with such confusion and worry in his eyes, and Coomer wishes he’d have spoken up at that point.

“ **_hey, where’d your- … why are we here?_ ** ” He’d managed after a few seconds of standing in silence.

“ _ To sleep? _ ” Gordon had replied, it was clear to anyone who’d been watching that Benrey hadn’t been asking that.

He’d looked down. Coomer remembers watching the colour drain from the guard’s face when he finally saw the stump, and an almost worried tone had crept into his voice, replacing apathy for the first time.

“ **_...what happened to your arm?_ ** ”

A blink brings the scientist back to the present. Benrey had brought his focus back onto him sometime during Coomer’s descent into his thoughts, and when they lock eyes again, neither one has to say anything.

Coomer knows. And Benrey knows he knows.

“..Oh.” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but it carries easily enough in the still night air. And he feels Benrey nod.

“ **yeah.** ”

“That’s… Quite serious, Benrey.”

Benrey opens his mouth to reply, but he can’t piece together any of the words he wants to say.  _ It  _ is _ serious, I hate it, why won’t it leave me alone, _ is what he thinks, but all that comes out is an uninterested hum, as he turns on his side and curls up. 

He feels a hand on his back, rubbing slow and comfortingly in between the shoulder blades, and tries to focus on the contact. Breathing steadies from the shuddering intakes of air he hadn’t even been aware of, and his vision starts to fuzz when he blinks.

It’s almost relaxing.

But then Coomer speaks up again, and Benrey’s second genuine feeling of fear bubbles to the surface. “You should… Inform Gordon, when you have a moment spare, of course.”

Coomer can feel Benrey’s spine tense at the notion. And he knows why the poor guard is so scared of telling him. It would be a miracle that he  _ hadn’t  _ discovered Benrey’s little crush on the physicist by now, and from how much Benrey, or rather the thing that’s been controlling him, has riled Gordon up and made him squirm, chances are he won’t believe a word Benrey tells him. Chances  _ also _ are he’ll tell Benrey to shut up, or leave him alone. And Coomer knows that would break Benrey’s heart.

Still, the man insists.

“He shouldn’t be kept in the dark like this, Benrey… Dr. Freeman is a very stressed individual right now, I think he’d benefit from some information.”

“ **what about me.** ” Benrey bites back,in a lucid moment. “ **i don’t wanna tell him- he’ll be mean about it, say i don’t deserve his sympathy or some dumb hero shit, i-** ”

“What you  _ don’t _ deserve is the person of your affections hating you for something you aren’t responsible for.”

When Benrey is knocked into silence, Coomer fears for a moment he’s overstepped in his efforts. But then he watches the other pull up into a sit, and toss his arms loosely around his back.

“ **i don’t want him to hate me, bro…** ” He barely whimpers out.

Coomer’s eyes soften, and he pulls Benrey into a hug. 

“I know you don’t…”

In no time at all, he’s back to comforting the guard. Rubbing circles into his back, keeping them both quiet for however long either person needs. He’s all too aware that Benrey needs the comfort right now. One of his arms is still wrapped around Coomer’s back, but the other is curled in close to his chest, and his legs are laying stiffly out in front of him. “ **this sucks.** ” He sniffles out, and Coomer nods again.

“ **wouldn’t change if i told him though, script says i gotta be the end fight.** ”

“The.. Script?” Of course  _ Benrey  _ would know too.

“ **says i’m the bad guy at the end of the game. i didn’t wanna do that. so script made changes last time i died, skeleton guy. forced me to be baaaad.** ” The last word is drawled out, as per Benrey’s usual speech pattern. Coomer finds he’s missed hearing it. “ **doesn’t matter if i tell chicken-head in there, script said no gay rights.** ”

The silly comment gets a chuckle out of both of them, if only for a moment, but Coomer sobers himself and clears his throat. “With all due respect, my friend, I don’t give a fuck what the script says you are.”

“ **ooh, tell ‘em.** ”

“I can’t stand by and watch you fall to a line of code that doesn’t care for you.”

“ **..mmh.** ”

Thinking for a moment, Coomer extends a lifeline out to Benrey, and hopes it sticks. “I have feelings for Bubby, you know,” he begins, feeling relief when the confession catches attention. “I’d be undeniably terrified if I were in your situation, in fact, I’d ask someone to accompany me if I were going to tell him something so heavy!”

“ **can you do that with me?** ” Benrey’s request is completely shameless, as if he’s known Coomer’s aim the entire time, but the accepting response he gets still means the world.

He awkwardly claps his hand on Coomer’s back before pulling away with a shaky sigh, and helps the old man to his feet as they slowly walk back to the hole.

“ **this isn’t gonna cost me a playcoin?** ”

Coomer shakes his head. “It’s on the house! Consider it a freebie.”

He smiles, and they both drop down. Benrey crawls towards Gordon on his knees once he’s sure the skeleton isn’t there to oversee the reveal.

“ **hey. wake up, they cut your leg off in the night.** ” A pale hand shakes Gordon awake, the lie is just enough to stir him into an alert state.

“Whuh- Nno I, need that you ffucker...” The physicist mumbles out as his head rolls across the concrete wall, before half-lidded eyes bolt open and he jerks back so quickly he almost smashes his head.

Running a hand- his  _ only _ hand- across his face, Gordon groans at the sight of Mr. Asshole-of-the-year looming over him. “What do you  _ want _ , Benrey.”

“ **you listening, that’s what i want. can you do that please?** ”

He’s about to say no, and turn away to close his eyes again in the only kind of petty retaliation he can manage, but Coomer’s hand suddenly appearing on Benrey’s shoulder drags his attention away from the half-baked plan and up to the old man’s face.

“Hear the man out, Gordon.”

It’s such a serious but gentle request, and Gordon can only stand his ground for close to ten seconds before his shoulders drop against the wall, and he makes a circular motion with his hand for Benrey to get on with it already.

Benrey stalls for time by getting himself comfy on the floor, then states as matter-of-factly as he possibly can; “ **skeleton’s doing all this shit, bro.** ”

He’s waiting for the eye-roll and the ‘cool story bro’ reaction, but Gordon’s shocked expression gives him the idea that might not be coming. 

“The- The skeleton, the one I keep seeing?” Gordon extends out both arms on instinct, only catching one hand on Benrey’s shoulder before he remembers it’s the only one he has, and he suppresses a wince.

“ **huh?** ”

“Benrey don’t you  _ dare _ do that shit to me after saying something like that, what do you know. I’ll listen.”

_ At least he’s hearing me out _ , Benrey’s mind offers, and he explains everything as best as he can.

The odd blank spots he gets whenever he loses control of his actions, the short-lived delirium that follows in the form of Benrey’s constant confused mumbles, and the genuine, serious hostility he isn’t even aware of. He lays it all out for Gordon to think over, and hopes even one thing stays with him.

He honestly wishes he could end things on a serious note to give Gordon more reason to take in his words, but the opportunity is so inviting. So instead, Benrey looks to the side, and deadpans.

“ **tl;dr bro, yo i’m being possessed by sans undertale.** ”

Once again, he’s expecting a scoff. He gets a laugh, and almost smiles as he drinks in the adorable grin on Gordon’s face. How it meets his eyes and creases the lower lids up. How he wishes he could get a reaction like that more often, if Gordon wasn’t always so stressed.

Gordon sighs, and Benrey looks up from his thoughts.

“Ok- Look, bud. It’s a little hard to believe you off the bat, but you’re gonna get the benefit of the doubt, ok?” He offers a lopsided half-smile, patting his hand against Benrey’s shoulder before dragging it back to lay in his lap.

Benrey’s heart swells at the nickname. “ **kay.** ” He replies, as emotionless as possible, but his hands are wringing together. Looking down at them, Benrey tilts his head in thought. In considering.

“ **...hug?** ”

His arms are outstretched, just barely, so he can retract them completely unnoticed should the offer be declined. Gordon looks to the empty spot beside him, and with a quiet sigh, tilts his head to gesture to it, keeping in mind that he’s only doing this because he’s long overdue a hug himself,  _ definitely _ not because he thinks Benrey might need one too.

“C’mon, over here.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, and cosies up to the other’s side with a hummed sound Gordon could mistake for purring. Coomer claps his hands together, satisfied, and gives Gordon an appreciative smile before he leaves to get some rest of his own. Gordon had almost forgotten he was even  _ there _ .

“He’ll appreciate that more than you know just yet, Dr. Freeman.”

“Huh?” Gordon starts, hoping for another answer, but the steady breathing beside him, synching up to his own is somehow too calming for him to try anything other than to listen to it.

Maybe… Finally get some shuteye, too.

Benrey’s weight flung around his side  _ is  _ surprisingly comforting, after all.

Gordon lets his eyelids droop, and barely registers the soft feeling of lips pressing on his cheek before he sinks into sleep once more.


	2. Dr. Bubby fuckin' em up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon almost eats shit, Coomer protects him, Bubby REALLY eats shit, and Benrey...  
> Oh boy

Gordon shouldn’t have given Benrey a minute of his time.

Sure, he’d been a little better behaved after the talk, and Gordon almost let himself admit he was enjoying the man’s company. They’d shared jokes, nicknames, they’d fought side by side. They’d cheered together when Bubby and Coomer finally kissed after Coomer had punched a headcrab to death to save the bespectacled man, Benrey even gave him a shoulder to lean on when he was recovering from his arm being turned into a fucking  _ gun _ of all things, and Gordon  _ had  _ to give him credit for talking Forzen out of trying to gun Tommy’s dog down.

But then they got to Xen, and Benrey had vanished.

Gordon was worried, at first. He’d begun to see him as part of the team, so when all traces of the guard vanished the moment they arrived on the other side of the portal, he felt it was only fair to remind everyone to look for him.

And oh, they found him.

Form grotesquely contorted into a being several times his own height, standing,  _ waiting _ behind protective layers of rock and portals, blankly staring ahead as he lay in the crimson alien-water underfoot. Diving into an incoherent rant on how Gordon’s  _ forced _ this, how he just wanted to clock out and play video games with his friends,  _ nothing _ to do with anything Benrey had ever said previously. 

At first, it shook Gordon to the core. Terrified him. He allowed himself to recognise that, for the first time since Benrey trapped himself underneath a blast door, he was worried for the guy.

But as if some outside force arrived to goad him on, he suddenly, all too conveniently remembered the kind of shit Benrey had put him through before all this.

And fighting him suddenly wasn’t as painful.

That was an hour ago. Now, they’re in the thick of the fight. All passports destroyed, Sunkist fighting alongside them at Tommy’s command after floating in from somewhere unseen, Bubby, all guns blazing as usual, and Coomer sporting a hulking pair of arms that definitely belong to a boxing champion. Benrey is stalking above them at every second, barking out threats and insults in a voice Gordon has never heard before.

He swipes at the ground almost blindly, knocking Gordon off his feet. The minigun arm spins on instinct, Devil Gun Mode powering up and searing his metal flesh in a red hot glow as Benrey’s claw reaches out to grab him. But he can’t fire, and he doesn’t know why. He’s not sure how you’re supposed to  _ un-jam _ a fingernail gun.

Over the ringing in his ears, he hears a man call his name. And he’s lucky his gun doesn’t misfire when he tenses up because in a flurry of water and white fabric, Coomer is standing protectively over him.

But he doesn’t try to fight, like Gordon’s expecting. In fact, the SuperPlayer Feature seems to have been turned off. The person standing over him like a shield is poised but small, round, vulnerable, and yet he doesn’t entertain the idea of moving away for a second.

The looming fist closes around Coomer instead. Gordon hears himself scream, and he watches, numb and frozen, as he’s pulled further and further away from the ground.

Coomer doesn’t let himself hear it, eyes squeezing shut as he fights to keep himself calm. If protecting Gordon is how his script is going to end, then so be it. He doesn’t want to give that damn puppeteer a moment of satisfaction watching the man it’s tormented all this time squirm. But he finds just how hard it is to keep his own composure when the fist engulfing him crashes into the wall.

Benrey squeezes his fist so hard the knuckles turn white, and Coomer lets out a pained wheeze as his cybernetic lungs crush against his ribcage. His vision’s already beginning to blur at the edges. And he can only hope Benrey knows he doesn’t blame him as he lets his eyes drop to the floor, hoping to see Bubby one last time. 

He sees Tommy, horrified and alone, yelling out a battle cry as he fills the skulls around him full of lead. He sees Gordon, of course, and wishes he could console him.

He sees a blank space in the waves below where he knows for a fact his partner had been not moments ago.

Bubby isn’t there.

There’s a hostile bark from above, and he looks up, to see none other than the test-tube man himself, standing upright on Sunkist’s back. The dog barks again, glaring, harsh shades of green escaping his jaws. He lands unsteadily on Benrey’s helmet, his claws slip, and before he can lose his footing, the overgrown canine scampers to the edge and jumps off to reunite with his owner. Bubby’s already jumped off, keeping himself secure with a combat knife wedged into the top of the metal.

“Get your  _ FUCKING  _ HANDS OFF HIM!” He yells, and doesn’t even wait for a reaction as his entire body, and Benrey’s head, engulf in burning flames that fill the lair with a searing red glow. The creature below him roars in pain, and Coomer can only watch as Bubby struggles to keep his grip atop Benrey’s now thrashing head. Flames lick at his collar fabric, and Bubby presses on, keeping them lit and watching them spread across their attacker’s model. He howls again, in a voice barely even similar to Benrey’s.

Coomer feels the fist around him slowly but surely loosen as ‘Benrey’ focuses it’s attention onto Bubby, and his lungs fill with air in a squeaky gasp that he can only just muffle. 

Gordon, standing below the chaos, watches him fall. He watches Bubby stumble beneath the flame, lose his footing, and slide right off the helmet with the combat knife falling with him. And just when he thinks things can’t get worse, he watches ‘Benrey’’s hand fly out again.

It slams into Bubby’s body, tiny in comparison, and catapults him away accompanied by his own shrieking.

Bubby hits the wall with a thud, and the scream dies off with a quiet groan. His eyes, flashing open for only a moment, roll back in his head and close once more. He slides down the rock formation holding them in with their attacker, resting limp against the sloping corner where the wall meets the floor. Thankfully, it’s keeping his head above water, but that’s only the paper-thin silver lining on a very large stormcloud.

“ _ BUBBY! _ ”

Gordon whirls around at the cry, finding that Dr. Coomer has thankfully survived his own fall  _ completely  _ intact, most likely thanks to his powerlegs, and also the fact that he’s an apparent medical and general enigma. He’s sprinting through the swirling liquid below with a clear goal, and the physicist follows him on instinct. They both kneel at Bubby’s side, Coomer pulls him up before Gordon can even blink, head pressed as close to his chest as possible, hands shaking with every second he doesn’t hear a beat. 

Then Bubby’s head shifts, ever so gently above him.

Coomer lets out a whimper and throws his arms around the man’s body, and he’s already trembling with adrenaline. “ _You’re alive-!_ ” He chokes out, voice muffled with forced back tears and the fabric of Bubby’s shirt. “Oh, you magnificent man you, you’re _alive..!_ ”

As if trying to respond, Bubby gives out a quiet, barely coherent mumble. His eyes crease up behind cracked glasses, weakly curling against Coomer’s front when the scientist straightens up to hold him. And he wants to sob, to break down and cry and hold Bubby in his arms and never let go. But there isn’t time.

“Now- Now Gordon, you need to remember-!”

Coomer tries to inform, but his tone is completely different. Where there had once been a calm, happy voice relaying facts and helpful tips like any other tutorial NPC, there’s now horror, panic. Life. He swallows all this, and tries again. “This isn’t Benrey’s doing! I know Bubby’s hurt, but we  _ cannot  _ turn a blind eye to what that skeleton is doing to him in favour of petty revenge!”

Gordon wants to hear him out. God he does. The one before him looks so tired, so scared, holding his unconscious partner close with such urgency and fear and he’d give anything to let Coomer know someone has his back right now.

But, as is his nature, stress and anger clouds his vision, and he needs someone to take the blame. Someone tangible. Someone who’s given him enough shit as it is.

His expression falls from concern to anger. 

But isn’t that justified? Gordon doesn’t know how long Benrey’s been struggling with the supposed ‘skeleton’, but it seems to already be in his very nature to dig under Gordon’s skin with every little thing he says.

_ ‘Benefit of the doubt’ my ass _ .

He grits his teeth, staring into the old man, looking for something-  _ anything _ to latch onto that would make him understand the  _ actual  _ situation they were in. “I don’t need to hear about Benery’s half-baked excuse anymore,  _ ok?  _ We can’t give him any more goddamn second chances, he almost KILLED you two!!”

Coomer’s face falls, and even in the overbearing red light he can see it go even paler than before.

“But Gordon, the skeleton-!”

Gordon’s too blinded with a new rage to notice Coomer isn’t looking at him.

“CAN YOU SHUT UP ABOUT THE  _ FUCKING _ SKELETON, COOMER.”

“THE  _ SKELETON!! _ ” Coomer points this time, and Gordon, on muscle memory, whips around despite his earlier argument.

And the skeleton is right there. 

Clawing it’s way out of Benrey’s now frozen model like a parasite bailing on it’s host. Screaming in agony from the previous arsonist’s dream of an attack.

For there being no blood shed, it’s a completely haunting scene, and Gordon feels his stomach lurch as the glowing, burning skull chestbursts it’s way out of Benrey’s torso. There’s clear, horrified discomfort in the guard’s face with every movement, but at the same time, he barely even reacts to what’s happening above a wince in a dazed expression. No screaming, he doesn’t even move. Maybe he can’t.

The floor shakes, as the pile of bones responsible for all this mess finally tears itself from it’s puppet, and collapses to it’s knees. Staring into the floor as if it’s trying to bore a hole through to the other side.

It’s giant, looming. Something about it’s anatomy is vaguely inhuman, like Benrey, maybe the sharp teeth or the fused rib cage. But it’s not half as threatening, because it’s hurt.

Because it’s fleeing through the rock. Like a coward.

The hostile light leaves Benrey’s eyes, just as the more human-sized skeletons retreat through the very goddamn walls to help their wounded leader elsewhere. Leaving him to face the brunt of every attack.

He falters, stumbling forwards and just barely catching himself with a hand pressed against the looming walls around them.

But it’s slipping.  _ He’s _ slipping.

It’s only a matter of time.

Benrey’s model warps and rips itself back to it’s regular size, miles above the ground, and he starts to plummet.

It’s as though someone pressed slow-mo on the entire universe, and Gordon can only watch, kneeling beside the unconscious Bubby as Benrey’s body crashes, face down, into the red water below.

Gordon forces his breathing, placing a gentle hand on Coomer’s shoulder. Instructing both him and the trigger happy Tommy, who’s made short work of the escaping skeletons and is finally rushing back to regroup, on keeping Bubby alive and safe.

And then, he rushes over, calling Benrey’s name. Stumbling on the uneven, slippery terrain as he tumbles to his knees by the guard’s side, and inwardly thanks his HEV suit for preventing two possibly shattered kneecaps because  _ god  _ he doesn’t need another injury to deal with. Shaking arms feverishly turn the downed man over and pull him up out of the unknown liquid sloshing around them, positioning his limp body as gently as he can with one hand and a mini-gun, to lay on his legs.

Benrey’s head rolls to the side in Gordon’s lap, eyes closed, mouth hanging slightly open.

“Ben- Benery you need to talk to me-  _ Right _ now, man.”

Gordon keeps his voice stern, but on the inside he’s crumbling. He can feel the familiar worry seeping into his words, replacing anger, and he hates it. And he hates that his spine chills and his heart drops when Benrey’s only reply is a bleary, glazed over stare out into space when his eyes fall open.

“Shit,  _ Benrey?? _ ”

He’s yelling this time, raw panic and emotion that makes Benrey wish he had the energy to smile. Benrey nuzzles his head into Gordon’s legs as the man holds him, remembering him being in the same situation with Dr. Coomer and how much it had calmed his nerves before. Except now, it’s so much worse and even better at the same time- Because while the scuffed HEV suit isn’t doing his neck any favours, it’s  _ him _ this time, and Benrey feels so goddamn safe in his arms. And in this kind of situation too.

How ironic.

An attempt at a dry laugh devolves into weak coughing that expels some of the red water trapped in his throat, Gordon keeps a hand firm on his shoulder to steady him.

“Talk to me man- Y. You  _ need _ to talk to me, I need to know what the  _ fuck’s  _ happening like  _ right  _ now. That’s you in there now, right?”

He wants to talk. God he wants to say so much to that idiot holding his semi-responsive body with the urgency and care that just melts his slowed heart.  _ I love you, actually _ , he wants to say,  _ I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t bring up what was happening better, and I’m sorry I made you angry, that was the opposite of an epic gamer moment.  _

What he manages, is a feeble little whine as his throat burns from the overuse of his Sweet Voice. Then a nod, when his muscles finally allow movement.

Gordon shifts the helmet up to place a hand on his forehead, out of some fleeting hope of comfort, and he leans into the touch. It’s cold, rough and sharp, a lot heavier than a bare hand would be, but it’s Gordon’s, and that’s enough for him. It seems to be enough for Gordon too, when he visibly relaxes with the knowledge that Benrey’s still responding to him. Still somewhat there.

“ **you... still pissed at me, bro?** ” Benrey finally finds his voice, and it’s crackly and raw, like he’s in a long distance call with his face pressed too close to a low-quality mic. It takes every ounce of perseverance not to stop and curl up in pain. Especially with the familiar, yet ever-painful bite Gordon’s reply delivers.

“...I don’t know.”

There’s resignation in the man’s words, and Benrey wishes he could explain. But he’s so tired.

“I don’t- Fucking know, man.”

He feels Gordon shift above him, letting out barely a squeak of breath when he’s pulled up against the other’s chest. The minigun arm holds him there, warm against his back. Mere minutes ago, that thing had been aimed at his head, ready to fire at any movement. And now, it’s the most comforting feeling in the world.

“ **...okay.** ” 

Benrey’s eyelids flutter, and his body threatens to go limp against Gordon’s front.

“ **that’s. ffine..** ” He stutters out, as if it’s meant more as reassurance for himself. 

And as his voice trails off, Benrey’s head drops.

The theoretical physicist isn’t medically trained in the slightest, shown by his several medical condition blunders throughout his journey, but he knows enough to know that Benrey losing consciousness is the worst thing for them both.

“Shit- Don’t fall asleep on me, bud. You gotta stay awake right now, ok?” He relays what he’s heard in every hospital drama he’s been too tired to change the channel on, aiming for his best bedside manner. Taking a firm grip on the other’s shoulder and shaking it.

But Benrey’s eyes are unfocused. He’s blank, expressionless, staring out into space as if he’s already long gone.

Gordon pushes on.

“Benrey?”

He can’t lose him, not now. Not after he finally has some idea of what’s been happening. Not when their last conversation was Benrey asking if he was mad at him, and he didn’t say no.

“Oh my god-  _ Benrey? _ Benr- fuck fuck  _ fuck  _ don’t you  _ dare. _ ”

In one sweep of the arm left intact, Gordon has Benrey’s head tilted up to face him, thumb and index finger curled below the chin. Not too rough, but not quite gentle enough to avoid possible reaction. It breaks his heart to stare down into those blank orbs in the other’s sockets, but he swallows his fears and lays out everything his mind is screaming at him to say as if he’s against a clock.

“Benrey- Ben, bud, listen to me.” No response. He ignores the twist in his heart. “I’m  _ not  _ mad at you man, I’m. I’m  _ mad _ , but you’re not the fucking target for once in this goddamn week of hell, ok. You- God- You’re a ggoddamn  _ bastard  _ for making me feel this awful, I didn’t- I...”

Gordon swallows again, harder, and doesn’t care when he feels tears wet his face. He lets Benrey’s head flop back against his suit, instead cradling it with his arm, holding it close. His own head rests atop Benrey’s, and in the moment he just  _ wishes _ Benrey didn’t wear the damn helmet all the time. What he wouldn’t give to run his hand through whatever messy hairstyle lay underneath, nuzzle his chin down into it, any other show of comfort that didn’t have to come from his uncoordinated bitch of a left arm. He considers removing the damn piece of metal for once, but somehow it doesn’t seem right. As if he would be breaching the poor man’s privacy.

The helmet ultimately stays on. Words dry his throat as he forces himself to continue instead. 

“I should have figured it out before- Fucking. Skeleton, why-  _ why _ didn’t my dumbass believe you, I would have helped! Or,  _ something! _ We’re supposed to be a fucking team- We...”

No response.

No movement.

No nothing.

The shell of a man lays still, slumped against Gordon’s chest, gazing out without focus, a thin frown taking the place of his usual smug smirk. And it looks so wrong.

“I’m- Fffucking  _ begging _ you, man, I’m not, I’m  _ not  _ gonna be mad, just. Give me  _ something _ .”

Gordon feels his throat tighten with every word, cursing himself for how easily he’s broken into a panic. He doesn’t know what to do. If this had happened anywhere else, anywhere in Black Mesa, he’d be rushing the guard to the nearest medical station, yelling instructions to his cohorts, supporting Benrey’s head as he lays him down on the floor and checks for a pulse.

He gives the Science Team a lot of shit, but when it really comes down to it, they’re like a well-oiled machine. 

But they’re in Xen. Gordon’s one remaining hand is already busy keeping Benrey’s head from rolling. And the rest of the Neo-Science team are out of earshot, resting against the wall of the lair, tending to their own injuries.

One isn’t even conscious.

If Gordon squints in the low light, he can see Coomer look over at him every so often, but the old man’s attention is always stolen by any sort of movement from Bubby. And Gordon can’t blame him, since they all watched the poor guy being smacked into the wall like a fly.

He distantly wonders if he’s feeling the same worries as Coomer did. Remembering how Coomer had screamed his name when he watched him fall, rushed to pull him out of the water below and hold him, and cried when he wasn’t sure if the man was alive or dead.

He realizes just how familiar that all sounds right now.

And then, he remembers Benrey kissing him in the Powerade lake.

...Maybe.

In a last-ditch effort, Gordon pulls forth all his courage and adrenaline from having to fight for his life against a possessed security guard, squeezes his eyes shut, balls up the fabric of Benrey’s collar in his hand, and pulls him up.

Their lips connect.

It’s an odd kiss. Benrey offers no resistance, but no returned movement, and Gordon honestly feels like he’s pressing his lips against a brick wall. For a moment, Benrey’s head tilts, and Gordon’s heart rises and swells with hope. Until his thoughts drag it back into his soles with the far more plausible conclusion that Gordon had moved what it was resting on.

But then he pushes back against his mouth. And that swelling feeling almost melts Gordon inside his HEV suit.

They stay there for another blissful moment, before Gordon feels shaky hands push at his chest, and he lets the guard fall back against his arms.

Benrey blinks once, twice, then his eyes pop open and settle into a half-lidded stare out in front of himself. Almost a carbon copy of the previous blank expression, but now there’s a shine to his eyes that the other has already missed so dearly.

“ **wha..?** ” He mumbles out, almost oblivious, and it’s the most beautiful sound Gordon’s heard in all his life. 

He almost cries.

Then he  _ does _ cry, and pulls Benrey into a long-overdue cuddle.

“Don’t- Ffucking scare me like that, man! Oh my god- You asshole, fuck- fuck you, fucking-” Teary-eyed ranting devolves into cusses and stammers, arms wrapped tight around the guard’s body as if Gordon’s protecting him from some unseen force. And Benrey has to tease him, because of course he does.

“ **did you kiss me, bro?** ” There’s that same, raw and tired tone in his voice, but he’s smiling up at Gordon, and the bearded man can’t help but laugh.

Nor can he stop himself from leaning down again, pressing another, softer kiss to Benrey’s cheek. “ _ Yeah. _ I did. How the hell else was I gonna- Goddamn get your attention, bud- I thought you ff- Fucking.  _ Died  _ on me there!”

Benrey pushes his head up against the side of Gordon’s face. It takes almost every ounce of his energy, but metal-covered arms are quick to support the rest of his body. There’s an obvious effort to kiss back.

“ **naah. m’not dying on you, that’s... s’kinda rude.** ” He blinks up at the other, a content smile plastered on his face, voice muffled against Gordon’s cheek. “ **blacked out... can’t believe i missed our first kiss, man, bummer...** ”

“Shut up..”

“Young love is  _ beautiful _ ..!” Coomer relays above the two, tactless as ever. He’s managed to make his way over in relative silence, not quite giving Gordon a heart attack when he finally looks up and notices the scientist. 

Dr Coomer stands there, hands clasped together in front of himself, smiling down at the two with such a proud expression that Gordon can’t even  _ consider  _ refuting his words. Bubby is swaying beside, one hand nursing a bruise on his head, the other wrapped around Coomer’s waist to keep him balanced, but Gordon can tell there’s a caring expression hidden in that uninterested glare.

And Tommy, riding on Sunkist’s back like a steed, is beaming as always. 

“Fuck… We all doing ok? Bubby?” Gordon breathes out, but as Bubby’s about to complain about being swatted out of the air, Coomer looks to his entourage before responding with a firm nod.

“Fine as always, Gordon!” He beams, not noticing Bubby’s almost incredulous expression as the bespectacled man makes to interject. Of course, he’s cut off. “I believe this calls for a group hug!”

There’s a pause where Gordon looks down to see if Benrey’s up for it, but the apathetically excited “ **group huuuuuug..!** ” he cheers out is confirmation enough. He makes a quick gesture with his head, and the Science Team brings it in.

Coomer decides on tossing his arms around Gordon and Benrey both, kneeling in front of the two, reaching his closest extendo-arm around the HEV suit’s shoulders while the other stays it’s regular length and gently pulls around Benrey’s torso. Gordon feels the guard lean away from him for a moment to wrap his own arm around the scientist’s back. They share a genuine smile, before Benrey goes back to his previous position and half-drags Coomer closer in with him.

Tommy happily slips off his dog’s back and jogs up to kneel behind Gordon. He rests his head on the right shoulder, and the two connect their foreheads in wordless comfort as Gordon feels thin arms, shaking with adrenaline and excitement, wrap around his torso from the back. Sunkist curls around at Tommy’s side, a trail of red and green Sweet Voice escaping with an excitable, but quiet bark, which his owner hurriedly transcribes as “Red to lime, calm time.” And Bubby, of course, tries to hide his need for comfort in the moment by unceremoniously flopping down to a cross-legged position and patting his hand on Gordon’s free shoulder. Gordon doesn’t buy the act for one moment.

“Come on, man. Bring it in.” Both he and Coomer are looking over at the all-too-proud man with a knowing gaze, and despite his eyes being closed, Gordon can tell he rolls them as he hesitantly leans against the HEV suit. And everyone notices when he reaches over to wrap an arm around Coomer. But in the moment, not even Benrey tries teasing.

“ _ Expertly done, Mr. Freeman. _ ”

The location shifts as they stay huddled in their group, but the man now standing in front of them doesn’t say a word. Even when Gordon finally looks up from that doting little smile on Benrey’s face, he simply straightens his tie, and gives the other a nod, as if allowing them their moment. 

Tommy is first to break the hug as they’re zapped around, location by location, running up to their mystery companion and throwing his arms around him, and at first Gordon assumes the young man is extending out their little end-of-the-game comfort session out to him, but when he greets the familiar stranger as his father, there’s a reasonable crescendo of equally confused and surprised reactions.

Especially when Tommy’s father asks if they’re ready for, of all things, a fucking birthday party at a pizza place. Even so, they all accept immediately. They’re all more than prepared to leave the hell they just experienced behind them.

Shoulder to shoulder, they stand, and walk through the green doorway before them into a well-deserved happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEFINITELY the longest chapter, but I couldn't find a way to shorten it down, so you all get t feel pain in bulk!


	3. A party at Chuck E Cheese's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few hours ago, Gordon wouldn’t have dreamed of saying what he’s about to.
> 
> Otherwise known as the happy ending.

The party has been raging on for several hours by now.

Tommy is in a deep discussion with his father, who’d introduced himself to the group as G Man, about beyblades and their correlation to different soda can colours. Bubby and Coomer are enjoying the quiet in their own company for a change, idly powering through boxes of pizza as Bubby leans his still-pounding head on the other’s shoulder, and lets his hearing dull out everything but the blissful sound of Coomer reciting the entire Wikipedia article on rats.

And Benrey and Gordon have found themselves a calm spot at the back of the establishment. Benrey is sitting on the table and sneakily pulling slices of pepperoni off his own pizza and feeding them to Sunkist. He’s also, somehow, managed to get his hands on an old busted PSP, and is entertaining himself with whatever games are already loaded into the thing.

It’s Super Punch-Out!!, somehow, so the mystery console supplier is most likely to be Coomer and his PlayCoin function.

Benrey smiles when Gordon, sitting on the bench  _ like a normal person _ , exasperated expression and all, asks how and where the  _ fuck _ he got such a thing. And he almost laughs when he flatly mentions how weird it is that Gordon’s more focused on  _ that,  _ than the fact that they’ve just been teleported to a Chuck E Cheese. And that Gordon’s hand magically regrew when he hadn’t even been looking.

Gordon shoots him a “Whatever,” and pats the empty space on the bench next to him. Benrey rolls his eyes with a grin, and hops down to rest against Gordon’s side, not caring that his sudden weight almost pushes the man over. He relaxes against the bloodied and dented front of the HEV suit, wincing at how uncomfortable and cold the metal feels against his sore body. But Gordon’s company is enough to let him forget for just a moment, and his thoughts fill with how safe the other makes him feel.

All Gordon can think of is how much he’s looking forward to showering when he gets home.

“ **mhm, you look gross.** ” Benrey adds, and he realises he’s spoken out loud.

He squeezes Benrey’s shoulders for a moment, but doesn’t comment. “So… Where are you gonna go after this? Home too, I guess?”

“ **nah, i don’t have one. i slept in th- uhh. breakroom.** ”

Of course. Of course Benrey lived in Black Mesa. And of course Gordon feels bad for him, because from the times he’s passed out in that awful, tiny room with it’s glaring white walls, the smell of burnt casserole, and a random ps4 in the corner which he’s only now realising the significance of, it’s not exactly an ideal bedroom.

A few hours ago, Gordon wouldn’t have dreamed of saying what he’s about to. But it comes out almost willingly, a simple task of his thoughts rolling out into easy words. “Come back with me, then. Already offered my guest room to Bubby and Coomer, another housemate can’t hurt.”

And Benrey has to tease, as always. Anything to distract himself from the thought of Gordon holding him as they sleep, and the accompanied burning feeling in his ears.

“ **where am i gonna sleep though? no guest room for me- dumb idiot didn’t think of that one, huh.** ”

“I was  _ thinking, _ ” Gordon interrupts, but he can’t help but smile. “You could be in. My room.”

Benrey doesn’t have a sarcastic response planned for that one. His mind draws a blank, and all he can settle on is a quiet “ **okay.** ” before turning off his game, and basking in Gordon’s company.

And later, when the party’s all but over, they say their goodbyes to Tommy, promising to meet up again when the opportunity arrives. Benrey calls shotgun in Gordon’s van so he can gaze at him for the whole drive, while Coomer and Bubby sit all too happily in the back. Gordon feebly hopes he won’t get stopped by any cops on the way home, and have to explain the two old stowaways who he can  _ hear _ are wrestling in there.

Thankfully, they don’t, and everyone arrives in one piece to happily shrug off their bloodstained clothes and take turns using Gordon’s shower. It feels almost like a natural end to their day, a simple case of his new roommates cleaning off the stains of a workday, rooting through a pile of his spare pyjamas for anything that wasn’t too wide, too small, or too big.

And breaking into his kitchen for snacks and soda cans while he’s preoccupied with unlatching his HEV suit.

Benrey, of course, manages to bargain for the huge t-shirt with the PlayStation logo he’d seen Gordon hide very deliberately. He keeps his work pants on at first, but they’re swapped for some plain black shorts while Gordon takes his own shower and only  _ slightly  _ yells when he realises everyone else used up the hot water.

Gordon only half-cares to dry himself before he’s slipped on a plain t-shirt and pants, and he’s starting the short walk to his bedroom, calling out a goodnight to everyone as usual. He flops onto the mattress and greets it like an old friend, curling up above the covers, laying on his chest, eyes threatening to close already.

A hand reaches up to play with his slicked back hair, and it’s only then that he remembers Benrey’s staying in his room. He’s laying on his back, legs sprawled out in front of himself, one hand on his chest, the other still tangled in Gordon’s hair that he  _ really _ needs to cut tomorrow.

It can wait, though. Gordon steals a glance at the guard’s tired face, half-lidded purple eyes, sleepy grin. The helmet is still on his head, but Gordon can’t even care enough to mention it.

He just wants to rest. To hell with how sore they’re all gonna be when they wake up. Everything, but sleep, can wait. 

And so he lets out a yawn, nestling into the comforting blankets underneath, and allows himself to drift away.

This time, he feels the kiss on his cheek. And he smiles.

And Benrey smiles back, crawling underneath Gordon’s limp, intact arm, curling up at his side.

“ **g’night, feetman.** ” The guard sighs contently under Gordon’s arm, twirling his ponytail around in a pale finger. And, when he’s sure he’s too deep in unconsciousness to register a thing of the outside world, “ **love you.** ”

For the first time in a while, he feels safe enough to let his eyes close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aand that's a wrap! This fandom has really helped me improve my writing/art from just how much new content is being posted, I'm so glad it's this big and I'm also glad I have an excuse to churn wholesome content out. I really hope you enjoyed my silly lil headcanons and ideas,,

**Author's Note:**

> Benrey's gay, Coomer's trying and Gordon's a tired mess, what's new!
> 
> Also because my last two fics got quite a lot of recognition and attention for my standards, gonna plug my Social Medias so hey if you wanna yell at me for hurting your feelings in the upcoming chapters, go to @Pastel__Draws on Twitter!


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